CHAPTER 166: CHAPTER 161: U21 TRAINING WEEK [I]

Tuesday, September 20, 2022

St. George’s Park

6:47 AM

Demien woke to his alarm cutting through the darkness of Room 214, and his hand found his phone on the nightstand before his eyes fully opened while his body protested the early hour with muscles that still remembered Sunday’s ninety minutes at the Stadio Maradona, and as he swung his legs out of bed the weight in his limbs reminded him that recovery was far from complete.

His legs felt heavy as he stood, and the tightness in his calves reminded him that less than seventy-two hours had passed since he’d been running against Anguissa’s relentless pressure in Naples, and each step toward the window brought fresh awareness of the accumulated fatigue that lingered in his body.

Owen Blake’s bed was already empty with the covers pulled up neatly, and the sound of running water came from the ensuite bathroom where his roommate was apparently starting his day even earlier, and Demien could hear the shower running while steam seeped through the gap under the door.

Demien stood slowly and walked to the window while pulling back the curtain to reveal St. George’s Park under grey morning light, and as he looked out across the facility the training pitches outside were already being prepared by groundskeepers whose distant figures moved methodically across the grass with equipment carts trailing behind them.

He grabbed his recovery gear from his bag—compression tights, foam roller, resistance bands—and began a light routine right there in the small space between the beds because his body needed movement before breakfast, and as he worked through each stretch he could feel his muscles slowly awakening though the soreness remained constant.

The foam roller pressed into his calves with uncomfortable precision as he worked through the muscle fibers, and each tight spot that released brought a grimace followed by relief as blood flow improved, and he moved systematically from calves to hamstrings to hip flexors while breathing steadily through the discomfort.

Ten minutes of rolling followed by five minutes of dynamic stretching, and by the time Owen emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in England training gear Demien’s legs felt marginally better though still not fresh, and when he stood to test his range of motion the improvement was noticeable even if incomplete.

"Morning," Owen said, and his Liverpool accent was thick with sleep as he moved toward his bed to grab his phone. "You sleep alright?"

"Few hours. You?"

"Same. Legs still knackered from your match?"

"Yeah. Foam rolling helps but I’m not exactly fresh."

Owen nodded while lacing his trainers, and his stocky frame moved with the efficiency of someone who’d done this routine countless times through England’s youth system, and as he tied the final knot he glanced at the clock on the wall before standing.

"Breakfast at seven-thirty," he said while checking his appearance in the mirror briefly. "Want to head down together?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Demien showered quickly while letting the hot water work into his tight muscles, and afterward he dressed in his England training kit that still felt slightly foreign compared to Atalanta’s black and blue, and by seven-twenty they were walking down the corridor toward the dining hall where voices already carried from players who’d arrived early.

Main Briefing Room

9:00 AM

The squad gathered in the briefing room at exactly nine as players filed in and took seats in the same loose clusters that had formed yesterday—established groups sitting together while newcomers gravitated toward other newcomers, and the social hierarchy naturally reasserted itself as conversations continued from breakfast.

Demien sat with Owen near the middle while Harvey Keane dropped into the seat beside them, and the Brighton center-back looked as uncertain as any of the new call-ups about what this week would demand, though he tried to project confidence as he settled in.

Lee Carsley entered with his coaching staff, and the room quieted immediately as the head coach moved to the front where a presentation screen displayed Italy U21’s crest, and when he turned to face the squad his expression carried the focus of someone about to deliver critical tactical information.

"Right, morning everyone," Carsley began, and his voice carried authority without needing volume as he surveyed the faces watching him. "Today we start proper preparation for Friday. Italy away. Competitive fixture that matters for our qualifying campaign."

He clicked to the next slide and Italy’s formation appeared—a 4-3-3 with names filling each position—and as the tactical shape took form on screen several players leaned forward to study the details more closely.

"They play four-three-three with a narrow midfield and aggressive fullbacks who push very high," Carsley explained while using a laser pointer to highlight specific areas. "Their pressing system is rigid and structured—they set traps in specific zones and punish you immediately if you’re sloppy with possession, and their transitions are fast enough that one mistake can cost you a goal."

The tactical breakdown continued for twenty minutes as Carsley dissected Italy’s shape, their pressing triggers, the spaces they left vulnerable when their fullbacks committed forward, and the names of players who would likely start against England, and throughout his explanation he emphasized how England would need to be patient and precise to break them down.

Demien’s attention sharpened when Carsley scrolled to Italy’s squad list showing their new call-ups, and his eyes found a name that made him sit forward slightly while recognition sparked in his mind.

Luca Bianchi - Winger (Braga, on loan from Atalanta)

A smile crossed Demien’s face briefly because Luca had earned his call-up through strong performances in Portugal, and the fact that they might face each other on opposite sides felt surreal though the moment passed quickly as Carsley continued speaking and Demien refocused on the tactical information.

"They’ve called up six new faces including Bianchi," Carsley said while gesturing at the screen. "Their coach is testing depth. We’ve done similar—three new call-ups in this squad: Walter, Keane, and Blake."

He paused and his expression became more serious as he let the words settle before continuing.

"Here’s the reality: those of you who are new to this level, you lack international experience. Club football is different from international football—the speed of thought is faster, the technical quality is higher, and mistakes get punished harder because you’re facing the best players from entire nations rather than just one league."

The words landed with weight, and several of the new faces shifted in their seats while established players like Kayden Muir and Jamal Whitmore sat relaxed because they’d heard variations of this speech before, and their comfort with the message only reinforced the gap between newcomers and veterans.

"Italy’s system is rigid," Carsley continued while advancing to the next tactical slide. "They don’t improvise much. They stick to their structure and wait for you to make errors. So this week we focus on three things: defensive transitions when we lose the ball, pressing cues to win it back quickly, and wide overloads to exploit their narrow midfield."

He clicked through several more slides showing training focuses for each day—Tuesday would emphasize shape and pressing, Wednesday attacking patterns, Thursday a sharp one-hour session to finalize the starting XI—and as each day’s plan appeared players made mental notes about the progression.

"Friday we play at home. Questions?"

Silence.

"Good. Rest up this morning. Training starts at two. Be ready to work."

Carsley dismissed them and the room emptied gradually as players broke into conversations about the tactical information, and Demien and Owen walked together toward the exit while discussing what they’d learned about Italy’s pressing system.

"Luca’s your mate, yeah?" Owen asked as they entered the corridor and turned toward the stairs.

"Yeah, good mate," Demien said, and his voice carried genuine warmth as memories surfaced. "We went through the Atalanta trial together. Roomed together for months at Atalanta before he went on loan to Braga. Trained at his place before it all started."

"That’s proper close then."

"Yeah. His sister Sophia—we dated for a bit. Makes it complicated now that we’re not together anymore."

Owen’s eyebrows rose. "So you’re potentially playing against your ex-girlfriend’s brother who’s also your mate. That’s mental."

"Little bit," Demien said, and his smile was slightly rueful as the complexity of the situation settled. "But that’s football. Luca’s quality though. Proper excited for him getting the Italy call-up. He’s earned it at Braga."

They continued toward the cafeteria where lunch service wouldn’t start for another two hours, though the space was open for players who wanted tea or coffee while killing time before afternoon training, and several small groups had already claimed tables near the windows.